


doesn't it feel like our time is running out?

by CerinityKS



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Misunderstandings, Soulmate-Identifying Timers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:57:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerinityKS/pseuds/CerinityKS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark was alive. </p><p>And Chris wasn’t his soulmate anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	doesn't it feel like our time is running out?

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from 'phoenix' by fall out boy 
> 
> longest fic i've written in a while, and my first soulmate fic! i love this trope and i'm hoping we'll get more trope au's for beckwatney because they're lovely :D

_five years ago_

Chris was alone. 

Okay, so he wasn’t _alone_ , he was on a beach with two hundred other people. He wasn’t alone. He had lost his friends in the crowd though, and he had little hope of finding them again. 

‘Just great,’ he sighed. He scanned the crowd again and took another pull from the beer in his hand. 

It was his third already, and the buzz was just starting to hit him. He felt like he needed the liquid courage though, for one very important reason. 

**00:00:08:12** the numbers on his arm read. 

Eight more minutes left until he met his soulmate. 

Fuck he was nervous. 

Chris downed the last of the warm beer in one go and started to push his way through the crowd. He still wasn’t sure what he was expecting; his soulmate was supposed to be his perfect match, but what did that mean? 

Chris knew it would turn out fine, but that didn’t stop him from freaking out, just a little. 

He’d meet the person he would spend the rest of his life with tonight. Anyone in their right mind would be nervous about that. 

Someone drew him into a dance in the middle of the crowd and Chris went along with it. Maybe it would loosen him up a bit. He got into it, losing himself to the beat, not paying attention at all to how much time was passing. 

His head spun suddenly and he stumbled. The person next to him caught him and Chris laughed as the world swam in front of him. 

He felt so _good_. 

Why didn’t he drink more often again? 

“Are you alright?” someone breathlessly asked him. Chris looked up, a goofy smile on his face, only to look into the most hypnotizing pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen. 

“Wow, you’re pretty,” Chris breathed. The man helpfully holding him up smiled, looking nervous and shy. 

“I, um, you too,” he stuttered, and Chris beamed. 

“Wanna dance?” he asked, unconsciously swaying closer to the man. 

“I, yea- yeah,” the man swallowed. 

Chris just laughed, so damn happy, and drew the gorgeous guy closer to him as he started to sway his hips to the beat. The man fumbled with his hands, clearly not sure where he was allowed to touch, before they settled over Chris’s hips to draw the two of them closer together. 

“‘m Chris,” he offered, leaning up to press his lips to the man’s ear. 

“Mark,” the other man offered, a light flush on his cheeks. Chris threw his arms around Mark’s neck, a wide grin on his face. He caught sight of his timer then and blinked in confusion. 

**00:00:00:00**

“Oh,” he breathed, realization settling in. Mark tightened his grip on Chris and ducked his head down. 

“Yeah.” 

Chris drew back a bit to stare at Mark admiringly, blatantly checking him out. 

He _very_ much liked what he saw. 

Instead of saying anything Chris just smirked and started to dance again, trying to drag Mark into the rhythm. Mark looked flustered and confused, but he followed Chris’s lead and continued to dance. 

Chris knew that if he hadn’t been drinking, hadn’t met Mark at a party, if they hadn’t been surrounded by hundreds of other people, he would have dealt with the situation very differently. He probably would have offered to buy him dinner or a drink, taken the time to _talk_ to Mark first, gotten to know him, and let himself bask in the knowledge that he’d finally found his soulmate. 

He _had_ been drinking though, they _were_ at a party, and they _were_ surrounded by hundreds of other people. So Chris made it up as he went. Mark wasn’t complaining, so clearly he wasn’t doing too terrible. 

The two of them lost time as they danced, too caught up in the press of the other person against them that nothing else in the world mattered. Their clothes might have been sticky with sweat, and their shoes uncomfortably full of sand, but they had the other in their arms, so neither cared. 

Chris was sure he’d memorized the color of Mark’s eyes, the slope of his nose, the bow of those oh so kissable lips, the softness of his hair between Chris’s fingers, the way he felt when their skin touched – Chris knew that no matter what happened he’d never be able to forget Mark in this moment. 

Chris had never felt so lucky. 

Mark smiled at him, a soft expression on his face, and Chris couldn’t resist the urge to lean forward and taste that smile. Mark just sighed into the kiss and pulled Chris closer, hold warm and tight around him, and Chris hoped he’d have bruises in the shape of Mark’s fingers branded into his skin for days, as a reminder of this moment. 

How had he gone his whole life without being able to kiss Mark? 

“Let’s get out of here,” Chris breathed. He didn’t need to hear Mark’s answer to know what it would be. 

Yes. Always yes. 

They pushed their way through the dancing throng together, hands clasped tightly between them to avoid being separated until they finally reached the edge of the crowd. 

“Oh, hold on,” Mark stopped, a sheepish expression on his face. 

“Hm?” 

“I, um, need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back?” Mark promised, gesturing to the port-a-potties clustered at the far edge of the dancing throng. Chris smiled fondly and nodded. He drew Mark in for one last kiss. 

“Hurry back,” he whispered. Mark brushed a feather light kiss to Chris’s cheek and nodded before taking off in a jog. 

Chris watched him go, very much enjoying the view of Mark’s ass as he ran. He considered taking a picture of it for posterity, phone already in hand and camera app open, when the first sirens blared to life behind him. 

Chris whipped around, eyes wide, and people on the beach started to panic and run. He swore and turned around again, desperately hoping to catch sight of Mark, but they were separated by a sea of bodies as people ran for their cars. 

“No, no, this _cannot_ be happening,” Chris panicked. 

The decision was made for him though as one of his friends ran up to him and started to drag him away, completely ignoring Chris’s vehement protests. 

It wasn’t until he was in the car and driving away that the reality of the situation hit him. 

He’d lost Mark. 

He’d just found him, his soulmate, and now hours later he’d already lost him. 

Chris let his head thunk against the window, eyes squeezed shut in frustration as his friends started to ask what the hell had happened back there. 

The only information he had was a name, and a somewhat decent idea of what Mark looked like, thanks to the crappy beach party lighting. 

What was he going to do now? 

-

_present day_

Chris could feel it, the moment something happened to Mark. 

He didn’t have to look back to see, didn’t have to listen to Beth cry out, to know that something had gone _wrong_. 

He hoped, desperate, until Beth read out Mark’s last recorded vitals, and Chris felt his world crumbling away beneath him. He didn’t need to check his arm to see what he’d find. 

Mark was dead. 

And Chris would have to live without him. 

Chris somehow managed to keep it together until they were all safely aboard the Hermes. The moment they were clear though he was out of his suit and he pretty much collapsed. 

“Chris-!” 

He tore wildly at his shirt, not wanting to see, but at the same time needing _proof_. Maybe it was a mistake, maybe Mark had survived somehow, and maybe they could go _back_ \- 

The numbers on his arm were faded, dull and barely discernable. Proof tattooed forevermore into his skin that Mark was dead, no miracle possible. The noise Chris released was saturated with grief, and behind him someone swore violently a moment before he was hauled up. Someone was trying to talk to him, asked him to _look at them damnit_ , but Chris couldn’t look away from the proof that he was now alone in the universe. 

“Fuck, fucking fuck me, did anyone know-?!” 

“No, NASA would never have cleared them to work a mission together if they knew-!” 

“Damnit, Chris, look at me! Don’t you dare-!” 

“Shit, get him to his room, he’s going into shock!” 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do, he’s the damned doctor!” 

“Just help me, damnit!” 

“Chris, Chris come on look at me, don’t you dare do this!” 

“How the hell did they manage to hide this?!” 

“Who cares right now?!” 

“Chris, Chris, can you hear me? Chris-!” 

And that was the last thing Chris remembered before he let himself be pulled under. 

-

_three years ago_

Chris came awake slowly, relaxed and deliciously sore. He hummed happily and threw his arm out, searching for the warm body that should be in bed with him (maybe they could have a round 3? Or was it 4?), but only hit empty space. 

He groaned, wanting Mark next to him, but at the same time not wanting to get out of bed. He opened his eyes and slowly pushed himself up, automatically taking in the room he was in. Mark’s room looked the same as it always did whenever he stayed over; a disorganized chaos, mostly contained to the far side of the room where his desk and closet were, and the rest of the room weirdly spotless. 

The door to the bedroom was open and Chris could hear the faint sound of the TV in the living room, turned down low, and someone moving around the kitchen. 

Chris slid out of the (very comfortable) bed and slid on his sweats. He absently scratched at his stomach as he made his way to the kitchen, only to grin at the sight that met him, a burst of warmth suffusing him at the sight. 

Mark, who was deliciously shirtless, turned and grinned at him. “You’re up!” 

Chris grinned back and crossed the distance between them to pull him into a kiss. Mark relaxed into him, warm hands coming up to settle on Chris’s hips as he sighed. 

“I love waking up and knowing you’re in my bed,” Mark whispered. 

“I love waking up in your bed,” Chris replied. 

Mark just brushed a light kiss to his lips, cheek, temple, and his jawline in response before letting Chris go and turning back to the coffee he was making. 

“So, we can have either cereal for breakfast, or we can order in from that diner across the street,” Mark pulled down two mugs and poured coffee into them, automatically making one the way Chris liked. 

“They deliver?” Chris walked forward and wrapped himself around Mark, face buried in Mark’s neck. 

“They do if they like you,” Mark smirked. 

“Then why would they deliver to _you_?” Chris teased, teeth nipping lightly at his favorite spot underneath Mark’s jaw. 

“Rude,” Mark huffed, making as if to pull away from Chris. 

“No,” Chris whined, dragging him back, and Chris relented with a huff of laughter. 

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” Mark complained as Chris went back to teasing at Mark’s neck. 

“Hmm, is that the only thing I’m lucky for?” Chris whispered, fingers slowly inching downwards on Mark’s torso. 

Mark’s laughter was cut off by a moan, his entire body relaxing into Chris’s. 

“Maybe not the only thing,” he conceded, and Chris muffled a laugh in Mark’s neck as his hands continued to do their best to wreck the man in his arms. 

He’d never been so happy. 

-

_present day_

Chris woke slow, not quite sure where he was, and for a moment he thought everything was fine. 

Then he remembered. 

Mark was dead. 

His eyes burned and he buried his face in his pillow as he choked back a scream. 

Mark was dead. 

He was alive, back on the Hermes, and Mark was still on Mars. 

_Dead_. 

“Chris?” 

Chris didn’t look up at Beth, and after a moment he heard her leave the room. He shouldn’t be surprised that someone was in here watching him, waiting for him to wake up. They all knew now, about him and Mark. Kind of hard to hide something like that when you’re having a breakdown over it. 

Chris didn’t hear anything else for a few minutes, not that he particularly cared, but the next person to enter the room wasn’t Beth. 

“Chris.” 

Melissa. 

Chris knew he couldn’t ignore her, however much he wished he could, so he rolled over and stared up at his mission commander, eyes red. Melissa’s hard expression softened and she sighed as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. 

“Why did you guys lie?” she didn’t bother to beat around the bush. 

“You know why we did,” Chris laughed, and it sounded hollow to his own ears. 

Melissa nodded. She knew. “How did you guys manage to hide this? Your files both list your soulmates as unknown,” she pointed out. 

A more common issue than you’d think, which made it all the easier for them to hide. They weren’t the only ones in NASA with soulmates listed as unknown after all. 

“When we both joined up that was true,” Chris smiled grimly. 

Melissa frowned, clearly not understanding, and Chris laughed again. It wasn’t quite as hollow this time, but that wasn’t saying much. 

“We met five years ago at a party,” Chris’s voice gained a bit of life as he remembered that night. “Unfortunately for us, the hosts didn’t get permits to throw their party at the beach, and it was broken up by the cops. In the confusion we lost each other. All we’d given the other were our first names,” he explained. 

Melissa nodded, understanding where the story was going now. 

“When we joined NASA we were able to tell them the truth. We didn’t know who our soulmate was. We found each other again though, and NASA never bothered to see if our status had changed when we were selected for ARES 3.” 

Not that they’d updated NASA on the situation either. They’d both wanted this mission too badly, and they knew if they told NASA the truth one of them would have been pulled from this mission. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. 

Chris could still remember how he’d felt, seeing Mark again after a year apart. It was like he’d been suffocating slowly and suddenly he could breathe again. Where things had been dull they were now colorful. He’d been so elated, so _thankful_ that he’d been given a second chance to have Mark again. He hadn’t cared that they’d need to keep it a secret. At the time they’d both considered it a worthwhile risk. 

It didn’t really feel worth it now though. 

Melissa sighed, clearly torn. “You know we won’t be able to keep this from NASA,” she pointed out. 

Chris nodded. It would be obvious when he got back to Earth with a faded mark. People would want to know what happened, and Chris wouldn’t be able to lie, not anymore. 

Melissa sighed again. “We’ll talk about this again later, when you’re more up to it, okay?” 

Chris nodded, eyes watering, and Melissa smiled sadly at him. “Try to get some rest,” she whispered before she stood and slipped from the room. 

Chris waited until he knew she was gone, and no one else would be coming in, and then he turned over in his bed and cried until he couldn’t anymore. 

-

_two weeks ago_

They were always careful. The two of them couldn’t risk anyone else finding out their secret, not until they were ready, even though Chris was sure Vogel and Melissa had an idea about the two of them. 

He was sure neither of them had guessed the full truth though. 

“We reach Mars tomorrow, can you believe it?” Mark whispered, nearly vibrating with excitement. 

Chris grinned and pressed a chaste kiss to Mark’s lips. The two of them were lying as close as possible on Chris’s bed, which wasn’t really made to hold two full grown males. 

“Almost there,” he whispered back, just as excited. Tomorrow he’d be walking on Mars, something that he’d been dreaming about since the ARES program had been announced. 

“We could be the first people to fuck on Mars,” Mark smirked, a teasing lilt to his voice. Chris choked back a laugh. 

“Mark, you can’t just say that!” he huffed out, too amused at the suggestion to really sound reprimanding. 

“Like you haven’t thought about it,” Mark shot back. 

Chris shrugged, unconcerned. He _had_ thought about it, but he also knew it would never happen. There would be no room for privacy in the hab, no place or time they’d be able to sneak away for a few minutes without being caught. 

“Maybe,” he conceded instead, and Mark silently crowed in triumph. Chris just muffled a laugh and pressed a kiss to Mark’s forehead. 

“It’s getting late, you should head back to your room,” he whispered sadly, not wanting this moment to end. 

“Do I have to?” Mark whined. 

Chris didn’t bother to answer as both of them knew they didn’t have a choice. Not if they wanted to keep this secret a little while longer. 

“Just think, 30 days from now we’ll have privacy again,” Chris reminded. 

“And we’ll see each other every day,” Mark continued. 

“Exactly.” 

Neither of them moved though, not until it was absolutely necessary. 

-

_present day_

A week. 

It had been a week since Mark had died, and the crew hadn’t stopped walking on eggshells around him. Chris appreciated that they were trying to give him time and space to grieve, but he hated how they were acting. Like he was fragile, and one wrong word would break him. It was just another constant reminder that Mark was dead. 

He honestly didn’t think he could possibly feel any worse. 

And really, he should have known better than to think something like that. 

It was Martinez that spotted it first, unsurprising since Chris had made it his mission to avoid looking at it unless necessary. They were eating breakfast at the time, the others talking quietly as Chris cradled a cup of coffee in his hands. He’d reached out to grab something from his plate when Martinez, sitting beside him, pointed at his arm. 

“Chris, what is that?” he sounded spooked. Chris, confused, looked for himself. 

**01:06:00:05** his timer read. 

He stared, uncomprehending. 

Why would his timer be counting again? Mark was his soulmate. 

Mark. 

“Chris,” someone breathed, sounding horrified, and the next thing he knew he was hanging his head over the edge of the sink as he threw up. 

He shook, unable to stop staring at the incriminating numbers on his arm. 

Why was his timer counting down again? 

He threw up again, finally tearing his eyes away from his arm in the process. There was a loud whining sound echoing through the room and it took him a moment to realize it was coming from _him_. 

“Chris, Chris, calm down, ssh, it’s okay, calm down, come on, breathe with me,” someone was whispering. 

He couldn’t calm down though. 

_Why was his timer counting down again?_

For the second time in his life Chris let himself be pulled under and he collapsed in Vogel’s arms as he lost consciousness. 

-

_four years ago_

Chris could hardly believe his eyes. 

Mark was here. 

Mark was _here at NASA_. 

Mark stood up ahead talking to a tech and Chris’s heart was hammering in his chest. Mark hadn’t seen him yet and Chris _didn’t know what to do_. Did he go up and talk to them? Did he pretend he hadn’t seen them and walk right on by? Would Mark even want to see him? Should he turn around and walk away? 

The decision was taken from him a moment later as Mark looked up and spotted him. The tech’s eyes followed a moment later and he smiled at Chris in recognition. 

“Oh, Chris! Chris, come here, I want to introduce you to Mark Watney!” 

Chris walked forward automatically, eyes locked on Mark. Mark was staring right back, eyes bright, and it felt like a punch to the chest when he shook Mark’s hand. 

“Chris, this is Mark Watney, he’ll be joining you on ARES 3. Chris here is going to be the flight surgeon, so any health issues you have, talk to him,” the tech was still talking, saying he had to go to a meeting now and maybe Chris could continue to show Mark around? 

Chris agreed automatically, not really paying attention to what he was saying. He was too focused on Mark. 

“Hi,” he breathed, once the tech had left. 

“Hey,” Mark grinned, “wanna get outta here?” 

“You gonna skip out on me again?” Chris teased. 

“Only if you don’t buy me breakfast in the morning,” Mark teased right back, and Chris resisted the urge to grin in delight. 

He was definitely not letting Mark go again. 

-

_present day_

Mark was alive. 

Mark was alive and they’d _left_ him on _Mars_. He’d been alone on Mars for four months. 

They’d left Mark alone on Mars for 4 months and Chris’s timer was counting down again and it wasn’t for _Mark_. It couldn’t be. 

Chris threw up. 

It was starting to become a habit. 

Beth rubbed his back soothingly as Chris hung his head over the sink once more, unsure if he was going to throw up again. “Can we talk to him? Mark?” Beth asked, and Chris wasn’t sure if he wanted to hug her or yell at her for asking. 

Melissa frowned. “We can ask. They said to send any questions they have, I’ll include that. Chris,” she trailed off. Chris looked up at her warily. 

“I think it would be best if you keep your and Mark’s connection secret a little longer.” 

Chris nodded, following her train of thought. “Yeah, okay,” he rasped. “Can I-?” 

Melissa nodded and Chris walked out of the rec room. 

Mark was alive. 

And Chris wasn’t his soulmate anymore. 

-

_thirty years ago_

“Mommy, whatta the numbers mean?” little Chris Beck blinked up at his mother curiously from his position sprawled across her lap. 

His mother ran a hand over his head. “Why do you ask sweetie?” 

“I heard Annie talkin’ bout how hers were runnin’ out soon!” he replied, eyes wide and curious. “Is that a bad thing?” 

Annie was his 17 year old babysitter, and she hadn’t been able to stop talking about how in a little over two months her timer would zero out. It was both endearing and annoying, though in moments like this is offered Ms. Beck a way to explain to her son the importance of the numbers scrawled across his forearm. 

“Well Chris,” she looked down at him with a fond smile on her face. “The numbers are very important. They tell us how long we have left until we meet the one person that was made for us. Our other half,” she explained, a soft finger running slowly over her son’s numbers. 

Chris’s eyes went wide before he stared at his arm. 

**26:10:03:02**

“How long is that mommy?” he asked. 

“Well,” she pointed at the first number, “this is years. So you have 26 more years until you meet your soulmate,” she explained. “Once you have less than a week left the numbers shift from years, months, weeks and days, to hours, minutes, and seconds.” 

“That’s so long away,” Chris sighed. He’d been so excited, someone who’d always want to play with him! 26 years was like forever though! 

“It can seem that way sweetie, but I promise you’ll meet them at the right time,” she pressed a soothing kiss to his forehead. 

“But what if they don’t want me?” Chris scrunched his face up, “Will I get a new person?” 

Ms. Beck frowned. “Only if they die, and only if you’re young enough. But that’s incredibly rare sweetie, I wouldn’t worry about it. Your soulmate will want you; you were made for each other after all.” 

“If you say so,” Chris replied, already bored of the conversation. “Can I go watch Pokémon now?” 

Ms. Beck laughed. “Yes, you can go watch Pokémon.” 

-

_present day_

They were going back for Mark. 

They were going back for Mark and his timer was still counting down and there was no way they’d be back on Earth in time for it to zero out. 

They were going back for Mark and Mark was still his soulmate. 

The revelation nearly sent Chris to his knees. As it was he had to hold onto the table to keep from toppling over at the realization. Melissa smiled at him from across the table, clearly realizing it too, and Chris couldn’t help the incredulously happy smile he sent back. 

“Hey, doesn’t that mean-” Martinez trailed off, everyone else coming to the same realization as they stared at Chris’s wrist. 

“It’s still Mark,” Chris laughed, nearly hysterical with relief. 

“That’s amazing,” Beth beamed, and Chris just continued to laugh as he put his head in his hands. 

“It really is.” 

“Congratulations man,” Martinez grinned, and Vogel clapped him on the shoulder. 

“This is a happy day,” Vogel proclaimed, and none of them could disagree. 

They were going back for Mark and Chris couldn’t be happier. 

-

_two years ago_

Chris ran his fingertips lightly over the expanse of Mark’s back, no real pattern in mind, just tracing at random. 

Mark was still asleep, though from the light filtering in from outside it was likely he’d wake up soon enough. It was so rare that they allowed themselves to spend the night at the others house now, in the others _bed_ , that Chris just wanted to take this time to _look_. 

“‘m, what’cha doin’?” Mark slurred sleepily, one eye peeking open to look at Chris. 

Chris just smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to Mark’s pliant lips. 

“Just admiring you,” he whispered. 

“So you were watching me sleep,” Mark concluded. 

“Stop taking the romance out of it,” Chris poked Mark’s temple. Mark mock growled and snapped his teeth lightly. Chris just laughed and flopped back down on the bed to tuck himself into Mark’s welcoming arm. 

Mark pressed a kiss to his temple then settled back down, eyes slipping shut. 

“Have good dreams?” Chris questioned, sighing softly as Mark’s hand started to rub rhythmic circles against the skin of his hip. 

“Dreamt of you,” Mark admitted, and Chris felt warm. 

“Yeah?” 

Mark hummed and tugged him closer, “Dreamt we got married.” 

Chris’s eyes widened and Mark opened his eyes to glance at him. His expression was guarded, gauging Chris’s reaction. 

“Do you want that? To get married?” Chris swallowed, stomach fluttering wildly. 

Mark shrugged, nonchalant, but Chris could see and feel the tense lines of his shoulder. Mark wanted this. 

“Maybe someday,” Mark said instead. 

Chris imagined it, imagined being married to Mark. Imagined being able to call Mark his ‘husband,’ legally bound to him in a way that their timers couldn’t replicate. 

The burst of warmth that hit him at that thought made him realize he wanted that too, very much. 

“I’d say yes, if you asked,” he answered, and felt Mark relax back into the bed. 

“Yeah?” Mark grinned, an unbelievably smug look on his face. 

“As long as it was after Mars,” he added, eyes narrowed. 

“Deal,” Mark declared, “as soon as we get back I’ll ask.” 

Chris laughed. 

“Deal,” he smiled, and Mark reached up to drag their lips together, something Chris was all too eager to reciprocate. 

As soon as they got back from Mars Chris was gonna marry the hell out of Mark. 

-

_present day_

When asked later, Chris wouldn’t be able to recall much of what happened when he rescued Mark. 

Once it was happening it was like a blur. One moment Mark was gone, and then the next Chris had Mark in his arms for the first time in nearly two years. 

They both managed to keep it professional during the rescue, and throughout Chris’s subsequent examination of Mark’s physical state, but the moment Mark had finished doing what he could and the other had left Chris pulled Mark close. Carefully, of course, he didn’t want to aggravate Mark’s broken ribs. 

“I stink,” Mark protested weakly, his arms already up and gripping Chris tightly. 

“Don’t care,” Chris muttered as he pressed their foreheads together. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered, voice cracking at the end. 

“I’m not, I’m here,” Mark whispered. “It’s gonna take more than Mars to kill me,” he joked a moment later. 

Chris laughed, helpless to stop it. “Let’s not put that to test in the future, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Mark breathed. “Now are you gonna kiss me or not? I mean, it’s only been what, a year and a-” 

Chris pressed their lips together slowly, carefully, and Mark hummed happily. 

“Much better,” he whispered between kisses. 

Chris laughed and pressed one last lingering kiss to Mark’s lips before he pulled back and grinned. “Come on, I’ll help you shower.” 

Mark lit up, and Chris almost hated to have to kill his hopes. 

Almost. 

“ _Just_ shower. No sexual activity until at _least_ your ribs have healed,” Chris warned. Mark whined, but Chris wouldn’t budge on this. 

“Nope, not happening. Now do you want me to help you shower or not?” 

That shut Mark up real fast. Chris stifled a laugh and helped Mark carefully stand up. As he helped the other man undress he caught sight of both their timers. 

**00:00:00:00**

**00:00:00:00**

He smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> find [this](http://rinnielove.tumblr.com/post/130005805036/doesnt-it-fell-like-our-time-is-running-out) and [me](http://rinnielove.tumblr.com/) on tumblr x


End file.
